


Mavet

by JustAnotherGhostwriter



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Book: Elfangor's Secret, Book: Megamorphs 3, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Jake-centric, hecticly fluffy cute Jake and Cassie inside, well mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/pseuds/JustAnotherGhostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and, all things considered, Jake is happy with the outcome. He's coping. The rest of the Animorphs are coping. The world is safe. He doesn't even get nightmares, anymore - every time he sleeps he dreams the same dream. </p><p>He's scared of what will happen when that dream decides to change. He's right to be afraid.</p><p>T for swears and adulty themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mavet

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this one in my head for years, but I’ve always been too scared/lazy to write it. To be honest, I forgot about it. And then one of Jakeberensonisbroken’s lovely little posts on Tumblr reminded me about it. I owed Derinthemadscientist some fic, because they'd been drowning me in fic. When given the option, they asked for the fic “awoken by the fandom sadist”.
> 
> I’m still not sure if they were referring to Jakeberensonisbroken or themself. 
> 
> Feel free to take this and make it your own or quote it or whatever the heck. My fics are always open. 
> 
> [Part of the Great Fic Dump From Tumblr of 2013]

_Low-sided, flat-bottomed boats that were creaking and cracking and letting in enough water to swamp over the ankles of grown men. A hurricane of sleet that sent the boats spinning like frightened children, even though they were overpacked with shivering, half-drowned boys and men. A river that seemed to roar with anger, beating the already battered boats with huge chunks of ice. The feeling of being near-frozen; sleet forming a layer of ice on your head, arms, hands, knees, feet. The growing inability to move your fingers or your toes or even your head. Men trembling so badly with cold and fear they were barely able to hold their guns, let alone keep up their attempts to keep the icy rain out of the barrels so the weapons could still be used._

_The sound of desperate, despondent rowing like a second heartbeat. And then the sight every person knew; the face of the hero the whole nation still owed their lives to. Just one person, who somehow made all the right choices. Not you. But it could be. You could do the same. And that, above everything else, was an anchor._

_“That’s the guy,” you say, because you have to put it into words. “Like Tobias said: the man. No him, no us maybe.” You wonder if that would ever be applied to you._

_“Yeah. And Visser Four could be in his boat right now.”_

_The sight of Marco’s face fills your vision. He’s got sleet hanging onto his hair and he looks half frozen. But he’s next to you and breathing and focused on the plan. Everybody is focused on the plan._

_“Rachel’s on it.” You need not say anything more: you trust Rachel completely. She’d get it done, no matter how difficult it was. She’d come through._

_The sight of the bank fills your vision. You’re close. So very close to the shore. You can’t wait to get away from the river and its chunks of moving ice. You don’t turn your head as Marco starts to talk; you’re too busy squinting at the shore and wondering if it’s just a trick or are those…?_

_“Hey, we’re almost there. Gee, I hate to see this pleasure cruise come to-”_

_Ka-PopPopPopPopPopPop!_

_The sight of a horizontal line of fire suddenly searing through the frozen air. The sounds of a second line of open fire mingled with cries of surprise and screams of agony. Your heart is suddenly in your throat because you’ve been so stupid, you should have thought of this and you need a new plan **now**. _

_“We’re betrayed!”_

_“Turn back!”_

_“No, forward!”_

_You scan the shore for any signs of Rachel, Tobias or Ax. You wonder where Cassie is and pray so hard she hasn’t been hit. Morph. You need to morph so you can yell to the rest in thought-speak. You need to morph so you can get into the water and take them all by surprise. You need to –_

_The boat lurches beneath you as it is given two conflicting commands. You grip the rough edge tightly and take a breath to bark out orders to Marco. The enemy opens fire again and a man right in front of Marco falls. You hear his scream and try to turn to face him but you can’t._

_The boat is gone. The shore is gone. Marco is gone. Washington is gone. There is only darkness._

_And then the Ellimist appears before you, in his old man guise. Your friends appear at your side, all in their usual forms, looking scared but alive. Cassie’s hand grips yours tightly, but not tight enough to be painful._

_“What happened?” The sound of Rachel’s frustrated demand._

_VISSER FOUR WAS KILLED. BY WASHINGTON’S MEN. ACCIDENTALLY, BUT IT IS STILL OVER._

_You frown. “Just like that? No way. That’s far too easy. Did you have something to do with it?”_

_The Ellimist opens his mouth.  From it pours a violent shrieking. You place your hands up to your ears but it is like a drill; cutting right into your skull, making everything turn to darkness –_

Paaap! Paaap! Paaap! Paaap!

Jake groaned out loud and blindly felt for the alarm clock, slamming it off with a bit more violence than was strictly necessary. He cracked one eye open and stared blearily at the innocent red numbers that were caught in the last rays of the sun. Another groan; he was still mostly exhausted. But, then again, that had been a normal state of being for him for quite a few years. With a sigh and a few garbled grumbles Jake rolled out of bed, leaving the sheets and blankets in a tangled mess. He headed downstairs at once, feet dragging and hands already half-outstretched as they awaited the holy cup of morning coffee. It wasn’t _technically_ morning – quite the opposite, actually. But he’d just woken up and his brain was sending him a clear message: stay caffeine free, stay a zombie.

“Your TV is terrible.”

Jake hissed and jerked in surprise, already tensing in case he had to morph. The adrenalin spike gave way to affectionate annoyance at the sight of Marco sprawled on his couch. Marco had a heaped bowl of Jake’s ice-cream in his lap and was idly flicking through channels with a concerned frown on his face. “It’s no bigger than the one you had growing up,” he complained again.

Jake rubbed a hand down his face. “Marco. Why are you in my house?”

“I came to make sure your jet-lagged ass got up in time for tonight’s shindig. You know, do the whole World’s Greatest Best Friend Thing by waking you up with coffee before your Satan alarm clock did.”

Jake blinked slowly at him, finally taking in the fact that Marco was dressed in his best tuxedo; the jacket was folded neatly over the armchair to Marco’s left. “Okay. That was very nice of you. But uh… My alarm just went off…”

“I got distracted,” Marco said dismissively, channel surfing even faster. “You really need to get a bigger TV. Come on, dude. You have the cash. No wonder you don’t get any babes begging to come over.”

Jake simply rolled his eyes, too sleep-mussed to get pulled into the argument he’d had with Marco almost a hundred times. He was never home to watch TV that often, therefor he was saving the money he could have spent on a newer, bigger one like Marco had for other, practical stuff. Like the food his best friend continuously came in to eat. Jake stumbled to the kitchen area of the large, open-plan room and was immensely grateful to find the coffee pot full. He added an insane amount of sugar and then gulped down his first four sips, not even caring that the liquid was hot. Jake hadn’t really felt pain in years; the morphing must have made him more resilient to it. If the life-giving caffeine drink burnt his throat on the way down, Jake didn’t feel it.

“Wow. Go easy, there.”

Without breaking his gulping, Jake turned his body so he could watch as Cassie came the rest of the way through the back door. She wore laughter on her face and in her eyes and old clothes stained with animal droppings, grass smears and mushed food.

“Hi,” Jake smiled at her, finally taking a breather.

“Hi,” she answered back, amused. “The coffee isn’t going to run away from you, you know. No need to risk second degree burns.”

“I don’t feel the heat,” he said truthfully. “Besides, it _will_ run away: Marco is over.”

“I can hear you!” Marco barked from his position on the couch.

Cassie and Jake shared a grin and Jake placed the cup on the counter so he could pull her closer. She smelt of the animals she’d just finished caring for and somehow he adored it even more than her favourite perfume. She fit snugly in his arms, nestling close and breathing against his shoulder as he nosed her hair. Holding her was possibly one of the greatest things in the world. It was right up there with flying.

“Hi,” Cassie said again, her words vibrating against his collar. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, but good. You ready for tonight?”

He could feel her grimace against him and he grinned. “I really don’t like these things,” she moaned. “They’re always so…”

“I know.” He kissed her hair. “But I guess it’s just one of those things. The car’s going to be here kinda soon, though. Don’t you need to go and get ready?”

She laughed. “You’re mistaking me for Rachel. All I need to do is shower and put a clip or something in my hair. I’m wearing my usual skirt and blouse. It’ll take me five minutes to be ready.”

Jake let her slide from his arms slightly reluctantly, wiping a bit of mash from her cheek with his thumb. “You’ll look gorgeous, as usual,” he told her, a smile tugging at his lips.

He was close enough to see the rosy red that stained her cheeks. Smiling even wider, Jake wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, letting his eyelids flutter shut as she raised her face to his.

“Eeew. Guys, come on. I’m _eating_. Remember the rule about people eating?”

Jake scowled. “Firstly, that rule of _yours_ was only implemented because _you_ kept making out with your random dates whenever we were all having dinner together-”

“They were seriously cute chicks, man. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”

“And secondly, you can’t even _see_ us.”

“I know what you’re doing. It’s the same thing. Now go and get changed into your only tuxedo so Cassie can go and get changed into her only skirt so we can go to the President’s little party and be embarrassed by your dress sense.”

Jake rolled his eyes and snuck a kiss before turning and heading back upstairs so he could go and shower. He was barely done when sounds of panic reached his ears from downstairs. Instantly alert, he wrapped a towel around himself securely and marched down the stairs. The loud voices had not been of ‘help I’m under attack’ variety, but something wrong was definitely still going on. He entered the open-plan downstairs room to find Marco sitting up on the couch and Cassie clutching a hanger that had a very elaborate blue evening gown on it. Her face was horrified. Next Jake’s eyes snapped to her left.

“Hello, Jake.” Rachel was giving him a smirk he did not like at all. There was a covered up hanger in her hands that looked suspiciously suit-shaped.

“Don’t fight it, man. It’s not worth it.” Tobias was standing in human morph by the door, looking very out-of-place and uncomfortable in a three-piece.

“Rachel.” Jake tried to make his voice reasonable and calm. “Rachel I already have a tuxedo. Rachel…”

She took a step forward with _that_ look still in place, and Jake knew he was done for.

****

The speeches and awards and obligatory boring bits had been over for almost half an hour, and yet Tobias was still standing in human morph by the drinks table. He’d had to politely excuse himself to demorph and remorph twice through the long-winded ceremony and looked like he’d been ready to become hawk and go someplace else about an hour ago. Jake watched him open his mouth to tell Rachel this, but she stopped his protests by giving him a kiss that was bordering on inappropriate for a dinner party hosted by the President of the United States. Even if it was in the closed-off, jazzed-up public park that Jake and Rachel had tossed sand at each other in as kids.

Jake had to grin.

“Is Rachel sufficiently distracted?” Cassie’s voice said suddenly to his right.

“I think Tobias is keeping her busy.” Jake looked over at her and found he momentarily forgot what he wanted to say. He thought Cassie was beautiful all the time, but there was just _something_ about her in that blue dress that clung just right around her slender frame… He had to hand it to Rachel; she knew what she was doing. “Do you want to escape?”

Cassie grimaced and shifted around on her heels. “Please. This really is _not_ my sort of scene.”

He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed gently, starting toward the group of people they’d have to politely say goodbye to before they could escape. Suddenly their path was blocked by a tall, imposing man in military gear.

“Mister Berenson.”

Jake took the offered hand automatically. “General. How are you?”

“Well, thank you. Did you just get back?”

“This morning,” Jake replied. “The talks went smoother than expected.” _Thank everything holy._

“I’m glad. May I have a word with you in private for a moment?”

Jake ground his teeth in annoyance but nodded, squeezing Cassie’s hand once more before moving off with the general. It was surprisingly easy for them to find a quiet corner in the masses of smartly-dressed important people. The general wasted no time.

“They say those who can’t do teach.” He eyed Jake critically.

Jake’s eyebrow went up. “Perhaps. But I’d like to think my cousin and I are very good at teaching your new recruits.”

“Oh, you are,” the general said crisply. “We’ve had nothing but amazed and glowing reports about the cadets that have gone through the training provided by you and Rachel. And every one of your pupils swears by the two of you, even though your methods are…” Jake had to fight down laughter as he remembered Rachel’s entire class rushing from the building covered in chicken blood, feathers and some pink sticky foam. She’d been the only one not looking terrified, and her class that day had consisted of army-hardened men and women all at least five years older than her. “Well. Not exactly by our book.”

“We only got a book about morphing two years ago, General,” Jake reminded him calmly.

“Yes. Well. Your ability to teach isn’t the point.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Then what is?”

“You can still _do_ , Jake. You and Rachel both. You shouldn’t be teaching; you should be training with them. Training them during combat. Consider joining our ranks, Jake.”

Jake’s hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms but again causing him no recognisable pain that he could use to keep his temper grounded. “Thank you for your offer. But, like all the other times you or your colleagues have offered the same thing, I’m going to politely decline.”

The two men had a drawn-out stare-off. “Then at least accept our offer to grant you the rank of general. Everybody simply calling you ‘mister’ is ridiculous.”

“That, too, I politely decline. I don’t like getting titles I haven’t earned the right way. Now I’m afraid you must excuse me; I have to get going. It was nice seeing you again, _sir_.”

Without a backward glance, Jake marched back toward Cassie. He was just in time to see the last of the fur on her ears disappear. Some of his bad mood melted.

“Did you just morph animal ears so you could listen in on my conversation?” Her smile was slightly guilty. He shook his head and took her hand. “I would have told you what happened anyway.”

“This way you won’t get in trouble; I found out by myself.” She opened her mouth to say more but then shook her head as they reached their intended group of people. Once they’d said their goodbyes and their thanks and sung praises about the food and the décor, however, Cassie could not keep her peace. “You miss it.”

“Sorry?” he blinked at her.

Her free hand played with the front of her dress. “Fighting. You miss it.”

Something cold struck in the centre of Jake’s stomach. He stopped walking. “Cassie…”

She shook her head. “No, no. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. I just meant… Jake, you’re _good_ at being a leader. There’s a reason they want you so badly, and it has nothing to do with you being a poster boy for them. And… you _do_ miss it. I know you do. Rachel does too.”

Jake shook his head. “Maybe I do. But I definitely don’t miss the aftermath of battle. I… _can’t_. I won’t. I’ll teach them my methods on how to fight. I’ll teach them about morphing. But I…”

Her hand gripped his even tighter. A kiss grazed his cheek. “Okay.” Cassie didn’t try and hide the fact that she was relieved. “Okay.” They headed toward the car that was waiting for them, fingers linked securely. “What about Rachel? Do you think she’ll accept the offer?”

“They won’t offer her anything now that I’ve said no,” Jake said grimly. “They wanted us as a packaged deal. They’re too scared to take Rachel on without a means to _control_ her.” His mouth twisted bitterly until Cassie kissed the warped lines away.

“Don’t.” She ran her fingers across his face. “Shhh. Just don’t.”

They stayed silent the whole way home, Cassie’s head on Jake’s shoulder and his head on top of hers. Their thoughts chased down a million different paths; all possibilities and dreams and little, hidden voices that always chose quiet moments to start whispering about hidden guilt and rationalisation for violence. Without really planning it, Cassie ended up on Jake’s couch, dressed once more in her poop-covered clothes. She’d hung up her new dress neatly but Jake, suddenly feeling the exhaustion, had simply kicked the tuxedo to a pile on the floor. He headed past her toward the coffee, but before he could pour some her hand was on his arm, forcing him to put down the cup.

“Nah-uh. You need to _sleep_ , not wake up. Come on.” Obediently he followed her lead, allowing her to push him down on his couch and then snuggle up to his side. “Have you watched this yet?” She indicated to the TV, and Jake blinked for a while at the images playing across it.

“Yeah. Last week sometime.”

“Good. I haven’t. So that means I’ll watch and you’ll sleep.”

A smile twitched on his lips. “You’re putting on a movie so I’ll go to sleep?”

“I’m putting on a movie you’ve watched so you’ll go to sleep.” She turned her head and gave him a _look_. “Don’t pretend I don’t know about your _stellar_ sleeping patterns, Jake Berenson. This way I can keep an eye on you.”

His smile turned sheepish and he kissed her head. “Yes ma’am.”

Jake intended to stay up and watch the entire movie with Cassie, but it was only about ten minutes in when he felt his eyelids begin to droop. Cassie, somehow sensing he was losing the battle, began running her fingers soothingly through his hair. It was like a lullaby without words. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest; could feel every breath she took and released. It was a pattern. A pattern like rowing…

_Low-sided, flat-bottomed boats that were creaking and cracking and letting in enough water to swamp over the ankles of grown men. A hurricane of sleet that sent the boats spinning like frightened children, even though they were overpacked with shivering, half-drowned boys and men. A river that seemed to roar with anger, beating the already battered boats with huge chunks of ice. The feeling of being near-frozen; sleet forming a layer of ice on your head, arms, hands, knees, feet. The growing inability to move your fingers or your toes or even your head. Men trembling so badly with cold and fear they were barely able to hold their guns, let alone keep up their attempts to keep the icy rain out of the barrels so the weapons could still be used._

_The sound of desperate, despondent rowing like a second heartbeat. And then the sight every person knew; the face of the hero the whole nation still owed their lives to. Just one person, who somehow made all the right choices. Not you. But it could be. You could do the same. And that, above everything else, was an anchor._

_“That’s the guy,” you say, because you have to put it into words. “Like Tobias said: the man. No him, no us maybe.” You wonder if that would ever be applied to you._

_“Yeah. And Visser Four could be in his boat right now.”_

_The sight of Marco’s face fills your vision. He’s got sleet hanging onto his hair and he looks half frozen. But he’s next to you and breathing and focused on the plan. Everybody is focused on the plan._

_“Rachel’s on it.” You need not say anything more: you trust Rachel completely. She’d get it done, no matter how difficult it was. She’d come through._

_The sight of the bank fills your vision. You’re close. So very close to the shore. You can’t wait to get away from the river and its chunks of moving ice. You don’t turn your head as Marco starts to talk; you’re too busy squinting at the shore and wondering if it’s just a trick or are those…?_

_“Hey, we’re almost there. Gee, I hate to see this pleasure cruise come to-”_

_Ka-PopPopPopPopPopPop!_

_The sight of a horizontal line of fire suddenly searing through the frozen air. The sounds of a second line of open fire mingled with cries of surprise and screams of agony. Your heart is suddenly in your throat because you’ve been so stupid, you should have thought of this and you need a new plan **now**. _

_“We’re betrayed!”_

_“Turn back!”_

_“No, forward!”_

_You scan the shore for any signs of Rachel, Tobias or Ax. You wonder where Cassie is and pray so hard she hasn’t been hit. Morph. You need to morph so you can yell to the rest in thought-speak. You need to morph so you can get into the water and take them all by surprise. You need to –_

_The boat lurches beneath you as it is given two conflicting commands. You grip the rough edge tightly and take a breath to bark out orders to Marco. The enemy opens fire again and a man right in front of Marco falls. You hear his scream and try to turn to face him but you can’t._

_The boat is gone. The shore is gone. Marco is gone. Washington is gone. There is only darkness._

_And then the Ellimist appears before you, in his old man guise. Your friends appear at your side, all in their usual forms, looking scared but alive. Cassie’s hand grips yours tightly, but not tight enough to be painful._

_“What happened?” The sound of Rachel’s frustrated demand._

_VISSER FOUR WAS KILLED. BY WASHINGTON’S MEN. ACCIDENTALLY, BUT IT IS STILL OVER._

_You frown. “Just like that? No way. That’s far too easy. Did you have something to do with it?”_

_The Ellimist opens his mouth.  From it pours the sounds of a violent car chase; squealing rubber and clanging metal and you can feel the inevitable explosion coming closer…_

Jake jerked awake in time to see fire spread across the TV screen in front of him. Melancholy music began to play as the main characters started screaming and running and calling people. Cassie’s hands were suddenly touching his face and he jerked once before lowering his eyes to her concerned face. She was wedged even tighter to his side, and he wondered if he’d been cuddling her as he slept.

“Nightmare?” she asked softly, letting him take one of her hands in in his own.

 “Nah. Nothing like that.”

Eyebrows furrowed. “Jake…”

He shook his head and kissed her fingers briefly. “I promise. It’s okay. It’s the same dream I’ve been having for… years.”

Cassie muted the TV and looked at him quizzically. “Which dream is that?”

She was worried about him, he realized suddenly. Worried that he was lying and that his nights were as tormented by demons as the rest of the Animorphs’ nights were. Worried that while they got blessed nights that were free of bad dreams, Jake had them all the time. He made himself smile for her. “I dream about crossing the Delaware. With Marco. When we went after the Time Matrix?”

“You dream about all the killing?”

“Not… really. I dream about the moment just before the shooting started and then I dream about the Ellimist telling us we won by fluke. But before he can get to his explanation, I always wake up.”

“How often do you dream about it?” She frowned in a way that made his insides twist strangely. It was as though there was something… wrong…

“Every night. Every time I fall asleep, actually. It’s all I ever dream.”

“I don’t know if that’s…”

He kissed her gently. “Relax. It’s fine. I _like_ dreaming it.” Her eyebrows raised and he gave a short laugh. “There are a hundred other things I _could_ be dreaming, Cassie. And all of them are so much worse than Delaware. The only reason _this_ dream makes me nervous is that I’m scared one day it’ll change and let in memories that _will_ constitute as nightmares.”

The furrow between her eyebrows disappeared slightly. “You’re sure?”

“I promise,” he murmured into her neck, before giving the flesh just beneath her jaw a long kiss.

She began laughing as his lips tickled her, squirming in the arms that suddenly wrapped around her waist. “I’m going to miss the end of the movie,” she teased.

“I’ll tell you how it ends,” he promised, kissing her long and deep. Her hands curled along the back of his neck as his hands began to play with the hem of her shirt. She squirmed _closer_ to him, arching up so their faces were level –

“Oh, get a _room_ you two! Gross!”

Jake and Cassie jerked apart. Jake scowled. “This _is_ my room, Marco. This is _my_ house.” His best friend ignored him and headed toward Jake’s fridge, a little unsteady on his feet. “Marco, what are you doing here?”

“I lost my keys.”

Cassie sighed and moved back to her original position, a smile twitching on her lips. Jake scowled even harder. The Hork-Bajir Valley only permanently housed the Animorphs and the Hork-Bajir colony. There were scientists and naturalists and other people that drifted in and out of the guest homes, but they were always so few and so well-researched that they’d be stupid to steal anything from anyone. And the animals that wandered in and out of the Valley were not the type to carry off television sets. As such, Jake hadn’t locked his door once since he’d moved into his new house, and he was pretty sure Rachel, Marco and Cassie followed this example. Sure enough, when Jake craned his neck to look out the window, he was greeted with the sight of Marco’s front door wide open. Marco may have lost his keys, but that was because they were never needed.

Jake sighed. “I think we need to get him another pet,” he groused.

“Or you just need to get a move on and finally put that spare bedroom of yours he’s claimed as ‘his’ to its intended use,” Cassie giggled back. Then, inexplicably, she stiffened. “I mean… like… or… you know…” She was looking down at her hands, her face suddenly flushed. “Unless you built it for him…”

Jake blinked in confusion. “I built an extra room in case family wanted to come and stay…” he said slowly.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say; Cassie flinched. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Well. I guess I can see why he got confused then.” Her voice was over-bright and she didn’t look at him as she turned the sound back up.

Jake knew better than to ask outright ‘what do you mean’. Unless he had a lead to go on, Cassie would simply brush over everything and leave him completely in the dark. And so he stared hard at the TV, trying to wrack his brains about what Cassie had said when he’d built in the second bedroom. She’d said it was a lovely idea. She’d smiled about it, even though it meant her house would start being built a little behind schedule. She’d blushed when Rachel had commented on it. Wait. What had Rachel said? Something, something… Rachel had had a sly look on her face… And then Marco had come in and had said that it wasn’t the best room ever, but he’d accept it none-the-less. And Rachel had made some crack about Marco being a big baby, so she supposed he would fit right in.

Baby.

Rachel had made a crack about it being a _baby room_.

 _Oh_.

Jake felt light-headed, as though he wasn’t quite in his body any more. The sound of the TV was muted, as though he was under water. He couldn’t feel Cassie snuggled beside him properly any more. He couldn’t think anything but _baby baby baby baby shit_. They’d never _really_ talked about it; it had just been one of those assumptions. Of course they’d get married one day. Of course they’d have a family together. They were Jake and Cassie.

He just hadn’t thought ‘one day’ was slowly creeping closer and closer and that she’d obviously get tired of waiting. Their lives were stable, now. They were still young, but not young enough for anybody to raise any eyebrows. Tom had been born when his mom and dad were twenty-seven.

Oh. Shit. How the shitting hell was he supposed to be a _father_? How was he supposed to handle that responsibility? What if he messed up? Of course he’d mess up. He always did. So then what happened _then_? He’d be in charge of the life of a complete innocent…

“Jake? Are you okay?”

No. No he was _not_ okay. He was anything _but_ okay. He couldn’t do this. Father? Him? Nope. “Uh…”

“Hey…” Cassie frowned again and leaned up to kiss along his jaw and his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. Marco’s upstairs. Rachel and Tobias will be back soon, I’m sure. We’re all here, Jake. Jake?”

He buried his face into her neck and breathed in as she murmured into his ear. She told him everything was over. She told him they’d always be there for everything. She told him she loved him. And slowly he began to believe that it was okay. That it would be okay. None of the others would let him ruin the life of his kid. It would work. They’d always made it work.

And so, lying in his bed later that evening Jake fought away sleep so he could plan. The ring he’d bought years ago had been dug out of its hiding place and placed on his bedside table, and he stared at it long and hard as his brain whirled through options on how to get it on Cassie’s finger. And as he made his decision on _how_ , his imagination took flight. He could see their wedding. He could see them moving into his house. He could see their children – because there would be more than one – and the summers of outside with the gentle Hork-Bajir and the winters of all of them cuddled together. He could see Cassie and him attending Rachel and Tobias’ wedding, the four of them having an intervention for Marco. He could see his nieces and nephews growing up beside his children…

_Low-sided, flat-bottomed boats that were creaking and cracking and letting in enough water to swamp over the ankles of grown men. A hurricane of sleet that sent the boats spinning like frightened children, even though they were overpacked with shivering, half-drowned boys and men. A river that seemed to roar with anger, beating the already battered boats with huge chunks of ice. The feeling of being near-frozen; sleet forming a layer of ice on your head, arms, hands, knees, feet. The growing inability to move your fingers or your toes or even your head. Men trembling so badly with cold and fear they were barely able to hold their guns, let alone keep up their attempts to keep the icy rain out of the barrels so the weapons could still be used._

_The sound of desperate, despondent rowing like a second heartbeat. And then the sight every person knew; the face of the hero the whole nation still owed their lives to. Just one person, who somehow made all the right choices. Not you. But it could be. You could do the same. And that, above everything else, was an anchor._

_“That’s the guy,” you say, because you have to put it into words. “Like Tobias said: the man. No him, no us maybe.” You wonder if that would ever be applied to you._

_“Yeah. And Visser Four could be in his boat right now.”_

_The sight of Marco’s face fills your vision. He’s got sleet hanging onto his hair and he looks half frozen. But he’s next to you and breathing and focused on the plan. Everybody is focused on the plan._

_“Rachel’s on it.” You need not say anything more: you trust Rachel completely. She’d get it done, no matter how difficult it was. She’d come through._

_The sight of the bank fills your vision. You’re close. So very close to the shore. You can’t wait to get away from the river and its chunks of moving ice. You don’t turn your head as Marco starts to talk; you’re too busy squinting at the shore and wondering if it’s just a trick or are those…?_

_“Hey, we’re almost there. Gee, I hate to see this pleasure cruise come to-”_

_Ka-PopPopPopPopPopPop!_

_The sight of a horizontal line of fire suddenly searing through the frozen air. The sounds of a second line of open fire mingled with cries of surprise and screams of agony. Your heart is suddenly in your throat because you’ve been so stupid, you should have thought of this and you need a new plan **now**. _

_“We’re betrayed!”_

_“Turn back!”_

_“No, forward!”_

_You scan the shore for any signs of Rachel, Tobias or Ax. You wonder where Cassie is and pray so hard she hasn’t been hit. Morph. You need to morph so you can yell to the rest in thought-speak. You need to morph so you can get into the water and take them all by surprise. You need to –_

_The boat lurches beneath you as it is given two conflicting commands. You grip the rough edge tightly and take a breath to bark out orders to Marco. The enemy opens fire again and a man right in front of Marco falls. You hear his scream and try to turn to face him but you can’t._

_The boat is gone. The shore is gone. Marco is gone. Washington is gone. There is only darkness._

_And then the Ellimist appears before you, in his old man guise. Your friends appear at your side, all in their usual forms, looking scared but alive. Cassie’s hand grips yours tightly, but not tight enough to be painful._

_“What happened?” The sound of Rachel’s frustrated demand._

_VISSER FOUR WAS KILLED. BY WASHINGTON’S MEN. ACCIDENTALLY, BUT IT IS STILL OVER._

_You frown. “Just like that? No way. That’s far too easy. Did you have something to do with it?”_

_The Ellimist opens his mouth –_

“Jake! You’re out of Cap’n Crunch!”

It took a few moments for Jake’s brain to kickstart itself. He squinted against the light; he’d forgotten to close his curtains the night before.

"I bought a box two days ago," he called back, still croaky with sleep.

"I know. You need more."

Jake grumbled and pulled a pillow over his head, trying to blot out the world. He spent a few more moments trying to get back to sleep, but his brain was too alert to simply slip back under. Without bothering to shower, Jake slouched downstairs and stole the last bit of Marco’s cereal, keeping his best friend away with his foot as Marco squawked and pouted.

"Doom Seven?" Marco finally asked, and Jake grunted his concent.

Marco set up the game station and Jake traded his bowl for a controller. Marco pulled ahead in points quickly, leaving Jake with nothing but trashtalk to save his ego. And then, suddenly, Jake had an idea.

"You know, you’d better enjoy being here while you still can. After Cassie and I get married in a few months…"

Marco jerked so badly he lost control. He dropped the controller completely and gaped at Jake, who grinned widely and used the opportunity to finish Marco off.

"Wh…" Marco’s eyes were bugging out slightly. "Are you for real? Because if you’re shitting me…"

"I’m asking her tomorrow," Jake said quietly.

The noise Marco made was only slightly humane. A book sailed through the air and whacked Jake around the head.

"Ow!" The response was automatic; it hadn’t actually hurt. "What is your problem?"

"I live here! Practically! Why am I only hearing about this now?"

"Would you relax? I only decided last night."

Marco grabbed him in a headlock, yelling some non-sensical things. Jake fought him off, trying to seem annoyed but grinning all the same.

"I don’t believe it. You’re signing away your soul." He shook his head sadly. "Poor Jake. I’ll remember you as you once were." Jake rolled his eyes. "You’re using the space ring, right?"

"If by ‘space ring’ you mean the Andelite stone Ax gave me, then yes."

"So what’s the plan? It’s going to be vanilla as shit, isn’t it?"

Jake shrugged. “We’re going for a hike. Once we’re on Toby’s Peak I’ll just… Ask her.” Marco gave him a blank look. “What?”

"Are you serious?"

"What?" Jake suddenly felt a little self-concious.

"Have you never watched a Disney movie in your life? Or not even Disney; what about a romantic comedy?"

"Uh…"

"Jake." Marco shook his head in despair. "It’s a good thing you’re so pretty because _man_ are you thick. Girls want romance, dude. They want Disney birds twittering sweetly and bringing them flowers and whatnot. And you’ve got people that’ll turn into doves for you. Not only that, but you have the United States army under your thumb. Think for once.”

Jake looked at him blankly. “You want to morph into a dove?”

"That’s seriously all you heard? Man, it’s a good thing Cassie has low standards." He clipped Jake around the back of the head. Jake didn’t feel it. "Okay. Listen up, bonehead. I’m about to save your proposal and thus save you from crippling depression and self-loathing. Here’s how this is going to go down."

By the time Jake was done phoning everybody he needed to phone and talking Marco down from some of his _very_ ludicrous suggestions, the sun was setting. Marco left on his own steam for once, sprouting assurances that did nothing to assure Jake. At least Marco was in charge of this plan; Jake didn’t want anybody to think anything of the ‘masterplot’ came from his brain. And if it bombed, he could just tell Cassie he had no idea what Marco was talking about; he wasn’t going to propose no sir not at all. In other words, it was a win-win situation.

Something that sounded like a chainsaw started up in Marco’s lawn and Jake rubbed his eyes tiredly. The motion caused him to catch sight of his watch and, with a grimace, he went back to the phone. He dialled the number he knew out of his head and then waited, tapping his foot a little as the phone simply continued to ring. Finally, just before he was going to hang up, the line connected.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was yelling above the war-cries and general hullaballoo that sounded behind him.

“Hi. Sorry, I lost track of time a little today.”

There was a snort from the other end that Jake somehow managed to hear even above the background noise. “Whatever, Midget. You’re worse than Mom; calling before every game.”

Jake simply rolled his eyes. “I’m just calling to remind you that if you guys lose it’s not bad luck; just lack of skill. And it’s only a _game_.”

“Whatever, Midget. You’re just sore you never got to go Pro Basketball. Don’t worry. I _think_ Dad still loves you.” Somebody called Tom’s name. “Gotta go. It’s time to start.” A short pause. “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. Good luck, Tom.”

“You know I don’t believe in luck.”

The phone went dead and Jake allowed himself to smile. He returned to his couch at once and flicked on the TV, changing the channel until he found the one that was showing Tom’s game. The whistle had just blown when a wolf slunk through Jake’s front door.

“Red Riding Hood’s grandma is one down,” Jake said with a grin.

<Very funny. You’ve been hanging out around Marco too long.> There was a pause while Jake watched the game and Cassie demorphed. “Tom playing?”

“Uh-huh. You don’t mind watching, do you?”

“You sat through _Eight Below_ with me the other day,” Cassie said by way of explanation.

Jake opened his arms and she obediently snuggled into him. She was more amused by how upset he got at the game than at the game itself, and had to hide her face in his shoulder more than once to hide her laughter. On several occasions they heard Marco howling obscenities from the house next door. Tom’s team won, as Jake knew they would.

“So now what?” Cassie laughed at him.

Jake considered, trailing patterns down her neck. “Well… We could watch a movie… Or go for a flight… Or…”

“Hmm. Flight sounds good. You haven’t seen the Valley from above since the extensions, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

With a grin Cassie pulled him to his feet and they both morphed together, Cassie doing a much better job of it as usual. As owls they saw the entire night before them without any problems at all, and they glided like silent ghosts until the Valley lay beneath them like a scene from a storybook.

<It looks great.> Jake’s satisfaction and pride swept like an undercurrent through Cassie’s mind.

<I know.> Her happiness tickled him back and they glided higher as though they were chasing the stars.

They landed up in the mountains, gliding toward a waterfall they had not thought to name yet. Cassie dipped lower towards the pool without warning, leaving Jake to follow in confusion. She landed on the ground right by the pool. And began to morph. Jake watched, somehow hesitant to ask her what was going on. When she waded into the water, fully human and naked, he understood.

“It’s cold,” she laughed breathlessly against his neck after he joined her.

“Not for long,” he promised.

He lifted her easily, water droplets falling from her skin and shining in the moonlight. She was a goddess. And she was his.

“Jake.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Her toes curled against his shins as his arms tightened to hold her more securely. The moon dipped behind a cloud and they were in darkness. Just the two of them in the world. And he had never been happier.

****

“Wake me up when you leave to do your vet things.”

He felt her laugh because of the way she was spread across him. “It’s early.”

“I _know_ ,” he grumbled. “But I hate waking up to find you gone.”

She kissed him. “Okay. Now go and sleep. We’re going hiking tomorrow, remember?”

A warm rush through his body and a secret grin. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Night, Jake.”

“Night, Cassie.”

He fell asleep to the lullaby of her breathing again.

_Low-sided, flat-bottomed boats that were creaking and cracking and letting in enough water to swamp over the ankles of grown men. A hurricane of sleet that sent the boats spinning like frightened children, even though they were overpacked with shivering, half-drowned boys and men. A river that seemed to roar with anger, beating the already battered boats with huge chunks of ice. The feeling of being near-frozen; sleet forming a layer of ice on your head, arms, hands, knees, feet. The growing inability to move your fingers or your toes or even your head. Men trembling so badly with cold and fear they were barely able to hold their guns, let alone keep up their attempts to keep the icy rain out of the barrels so the weapons could still be used._

_The sound of desperate, despondent rowing like a second heartbeat. And then the sight every person knew; the face of the hero the whole nation still owed their lives to. Just one person, who somehow made all the right choices. Not you. But it could be. You could do the same. And that, above everything else, was an anchor._

_“That’s the guy,” you say, because you have to put it into words. “Like Tobias said: the man. No him, no us maybe.” You wonder if that would ever be applied to you._

_“Yeah. And Visser Four could be in his boat right now.”_

_The sight of Marco’s face fills your vision. He’s got sleet hanging onto his hair and he looks half frozen. But he’s next to you and breathing and focused on the plan. Everybody is focused on the plan._

_“Rachel’s on it.” You need not say anything more: you trust Rachel completely. She’d get it done, no matter how difficult it was. She’d come through._

_The sight of the bank fills your vision. You’re close. So very close to the shore. You can’t wait to get away from the river and its chunks of moving ice. You don’t turn your head as Marco starts to talk; you’re too busy squinting at the shore and wondering if it’s just a trick or are those…?_

_“Hey, we’re almost there. Gee, I hate to see this pleasure cruise come to-”_

_Ka-PopPopPopPopPopPop!_

_The sight of a horizontal line of fire suddenly searing through the frozen air. The sounds of a second line of open fire mingled with cries of surprise and screams of agony. Your heart is suddenly in your throat because you’ve been so stupid, you should have thought of this and you need a new plan **now**. _

_“We’re betrayed!”_

_“Turn back!”_

_“No, forward!”_

_You scan the shore for any signs of Rachel, Tobias or Ax. You wonder where Cassie is and pray so hard she hasn’t been hit. Morph. You need to morph so you can yell to the rest in thought-speak. You need to morph so you can get into the water and take them all by surprise. You need to –_

_The boat lurches beneath you as it is given two conflicting commands. You grip the rough edge tightly and take a breath to bark out orders to Marco. The enemy opens fire again and a man right in front of Marco falls. You hear his scream and try to turn to face him but you can’t._

_The boat is gone. The shore is gone. Marco is gone. Washington is gone. There is only darkness._

_The darkness lasts. No Ellimist appears. You frown. Fear wells up inside your gut as you realize this is it. This is the night it changes: this is the night your safe dream lets in all the nightmares you’ve been able to avoid for years. You look around in panic, expecting Crayack. The Howlers. Stalking Tom. Bleeding, dying creatures. Things burning at your command._

_Still just darkness. And the fear gives way to sudden annoyance._

_No. You won’t let this happen. It’s the night before your wedding. You will not let the nightmares have you. You will make sense of whatever is happening, you will let it play out. And you will wake up._

_As soon as you make that decision, the darkness vanishes._

It took less than a moment to identify the place. Cassie’s barn. And before Jake stood the rest of his friends, Ax included. The annoyance was still bubbling in Jake’s stomach. He was determined to ride out whatever freaky dream he was in so he could return to reality. It would not break him.

“Why are we here?” he asked the group at large.

Five heads snapped. Six pairs of eyes stared. Four mouths and one thought-speak voice all said the same word.

“Jake?”

It was, Jake had to admit, a little creepy. It made him even more annoyed to know he was already feeling dread. “Well, duh. Like you don’t recognise me?” He wasn’t sure if being sassy with his dream would change anything, but he was determined to try. “Hey. How did we get back here?”

“You’re alive,” Rachel said to him, her voice strange.

Jake stared at them all. Something cold was starting to creep across his skin. Blaring through his mind came the overwhelming instinct that _something was not right_. He was missing something. Despite his intentions to keep calm, his heartbeat picked up speed.

“I really don’t like the way you guys are looking at me. You’re giving me the creeps.” The confession slipped from his lips before he was even aware he was going to say it out loud.

He expected sneering at the very least. Sneering and taunting as nightmares usually twisted into when you admitted that you were even the slightest bit perturbed by them. But instead of preying on his weakness, the others just continued speaking amongst themselves. As though it was normal. As though they weren’t a figment of his broken brain.

<What happened?> Were they simply going to repeat his questions over and over? That was a form of torture he’d seen in horror movies… <How the oh, man. The hippie chick!>

“What hippie chick?” Jake demanded. The less sense it was all making, the more panicked he was becoming. This was supposed to be a nightmare. Terror and blood and his own damn mistakes rolled into one. It wasn’t supposed to be so nonsensical and yet so… _real_. He could smell the hay around him. He could smell the animals. There was a breeze against his face. Ax’s tailblade was making a slight swooshing motion as it moved.

“It was Theresa Knowlton,” Cassie spoke up, and any hope that she would be his anchor evaporated. She looked so _real_ ; just like he remembered her. But she was not _his_ Cassie; the one he wanted to get through the nightmare to go and marry. And yet… something was bugging him. Some nagging that was not leaving him alone. “We didn’t have to make the decision. She saw us. She was distracted. She missed meeting Berryman’s father. Berryman was never born. It all never happened.”

“Excuse me!” Jake was really starting to panic now. There was a twisting, sick feeling in his gut that he was trying to fight. And, somehow, memories of reality outside of this nightmare were fading as though he’d woken from a dream. He couldn’t remember what team Tom played for. He couldn’t remember the colour of his bathroom. He couldn’t remember… “Why am I crossing the Delaware next to George Washington one minute and then I’m back here while you people babble about hippies?”

That was the main question. Why had the dream suddenly changed? It had been the same for _years_ …

Even when the war had reached its peak, just before the Andalites arrived to take over the war…

Wait…

When had the Andalites arrived? What had they done? How had they won? _Why couldn’t he remember_?

Cassie turned her too-wide eyes onto Jake and he felt his heart constrict in fear. “You died, Jake.” It was being slapped by Rachel in grizzly morph. “You died crossing the Delaware with Washington.”

Shock tore through Jake’s body even as his mind refused to grasp the concept. No. _No_. They’d done it. The Ellimist had said… what? What had been his response to Jake calling him out on the mission being too easy? What had he _said_? No. _No_. Jake couldn’t have died. He couldn’t have…

He clenched his fists and his nails dug into his skin. He felt pain.

Pain.

You couldn’t feel pain when you were dreaming.

“Oh, my God,” Jake whispered, almost wavering on his feet. He’d _died_. This – _this_ – was reality. The barn started spinning a little. “Did… I mean, in the end, did we do it? Did we put it all back right? Did we make it right?”

Cassie moved toward him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. She smelt exactly like the older Cassie had. He bet she would fit into his arms just as perfectly as _his_ Cassie had. But all he’d get was the kiss on the cheek. And all the now-hazy images of them _together_ … They’d never existed.

“No. We didn’t make it right.” He wanted her to hold him so he could cry like a baby. No, they hadn’t made it right. This wasn’t right. He didn’t want _this_. “But we put it back, Jake. Leave it at that. We put it all back.”

He nodded. What else could he do? Tell her he wished she hadn’t put it back? Tell her he wished he’d never come back? If what he experienced was death, then…

Everybody headed back to their respective homes, but not before touching Jake in some way. Tobias landed on Jake’s shoulder and gently squeezed it before flying off without a word. As though checking Jake was alive and with them. Ax touched Jake’s forehead in some sort of Andelite gesture that Jake did not have the state of mind to ask about. Marco hugged him. Longer and tighter than he had for a long while. And Jake hugged back because he suddenly realized that Marco had been beside him on that boat… Rachel hugged him too, tucking her face into his shoulder in a way he’d seen her do with her dad. It meant she was trying not to cry. He kissed her hair the way their mutual grandmother usually did. Cassie, before she went inside, gave him another kiss on the cheek.

And then Jake was left to head home by himself. He didn’t morph. He didn’t think he was capable right then. He felt hollow inside. His head was buzzing with half-formed thoughts and memories of things that had never happened as he tried to rip truth from reality. It was when he hit the main road back to his house that he remembered what his grandmother had said to him once.

 _“Heaven will be a place with no suffering and no pain. The place you get everything good you don’t deserve_. _”_

He laughed so hard at that memory that he cried. 


End file.
